Flying Lessons
by foreverliesl28
Summary: Hermione learns to do the one thing she could never quite grasp in school.


Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: Thanks to Katie and Julia, my fantabulous betas! You're amazing, girls! =)

***

_11-year-old Hermione Granger, buck-toothed and bushy-haired, stood over the uncooperative broomstick, exclaiming for the thousandth time, "Up!"_

_Her hair stood on end. Beside her, Harry's broom leapt immediately into his hand as though it belonged there. Someone in this class was better than her? How could that be?!_

"_UP!"_

_After a few tries, the freckle-faced redhead beside her succeeded in lifting his broom off the ground, as well. Albeit, it hit him in the face, but it still moved! Why couldn't she do this? She had read seven different books on flying over the summer! Maybe she just wasn't good at this… _

Hermione shook her head of the horrid memory as she wandered down the hill in the backyard of the Burrow with Ron, her sweaty, shaking hand clasped onto one of the Weasley's old Cleansweeps. Why had she let Ron talk her into this?

"Relax, Hermione," Ron called to her, his own broom propped casually against his shoulder, from few yards ahead of her.

"It's looking a little cloudy, Ron," Hermione replied to her boyfriend, hoping that her voice didn't quiver with nervousness. "Maybe we should try this another day."

"No!" Hermione had rarely heard Ron so adamant, and was slightly taken aback. "Hermione, you've put this off since we were eleven years old!"

Hermione sighed and reached the bottom of the hill, where Ron already stood at the edge of the field.

"We'll start with basics," Ron said, and Hermione could hear traces of pride in his voice. "Put the broom on the ground beside you." Hermione did so, and he continued, "Good. Now hold your hand over it and say, 'Up!'"

Hermione pushed her shoulders back confidently. She was older now, and wiser than she had been at eleven. She had battled Dark wizards, had fought in the war! She had helped bring about Voldemort's demise! Certainly, she could do this… "Up!"

Nothing.

Trying not to show her embarrassment, she said more firmly, "UP!"

The broom shifted a bit on the grass, then remained still.

"Maybe if you… I dunno… say it louder or something," Ron coughed, his attempt to be helpful falling flat on its face.

"UP!" Hermione screamed, becoming more frustrated by the minute, then took a breath. _This isn't worth losing your cool over_,_ Hermione_, she told herself. _This is just something that you're… not very good at…_

Hermione looked to Ron desperately for assistance, and to her surprise, he seemed to light up at her glance. "I have an idea."

***

"I'm not sure about this, Ron," Hermione said shakily as she mounted the broom behind her boyfriend, arms clasped loosely around his waist.

"Trust me, 'Mione," Ron exclaimed, excitement seeping through each word. Hermione could see how thrilled he was to share his passion with her, and warmth filled her heart. "Once you know what it's like to fly, it'll be much easier on your own!" He bent low, preparing to leave the ground, and said over his shoulder, "Hold on!"

Hermione barely had time to tighten her grip around Ron's midsection before they zoomed into the air at an alarming pace. The wind whipped her hair around her face as her feet dangled precariously in midair. It was the strangest feeling—complete weightlessness, soaring through the sky like a bird. Well, maybe not so much a bird—with the extra weight on Ron's old broom, it jerked a bit, more like riding a thestral.

She adjusted to the new feelings quickly—her worries and fears had been left on the ground far below them. Hermione let out a laugh as she felt the breeze against her face. Closing her eyes contentedly, she reflected on the young man in front of her. Ron was convinced that it was her who taught him everything—tutoring in Transfiguration, Potions, Charms. But he was wrong—it was he who taught her. He taught her to have fun, to enjoy life, to leave her reservations behind and live in the moment, and she loved him for it.

The realization hit Hermione like the Hogwarts Express. She had known for years that she had feelings for him, of course, but love? A smile crept onto her face of its own accord—the pieces of her life finally seemed to fit. Unconsciously, she gripped Ron's waist more tightly.

She wouldn't tell him, not yet. So many things had happened in a remarkably short amount of time—so many loved ones lost, Voldemort's downfall-- so much horror and happiness at once. No, she would wait. The time would come. She felt the broomstick begin its descent to the field, and felt butterflies in her stomach that had nothing to do with the flying lesson.

Hermione soon felt her feet hit solid ground, and Ron leapt off the broom, and then took her hand as she dismounted.

"There," Ron breathed, "you just flew."

"Yes," Hermione grinned, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "I did."

A/N: Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!


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